“Very good my lord,” Stefan said, making a note. “I will also arrange for you to visit the offices of Northcote Industries in the morning.”

Dellen inclined his head at Stefan, “Thank you.” He left Stefan’s office, his mind already on the Aetheric Cultivators.

“Are you sure we want to go see Lady Lockridge?” Gilgamesh asked once they were away from where anyone could hear Dellen answer him. “She could see me.”

“Lady Lockridge is fascinated by technology; I can’t think of anything that would garner her attention faster than seeing an unexplained curiosity like yourself.”

“And you want her attention?” Gilgamesh said.

“I do if I want her help with Thaddeus or financing House Northcote.”

“Are you using me as bait?” Gilgamesh spluttered.

Dellen didn’t immediately answer while he turned Gilgamesh’s question over in his mind. “I suppose I might be, though it’s purely accidental. Do you want to stay here for the evening?”

Gilgamesh stayed silent for long enough for them to reach the roof. “No, I’ll come with you to the gala.”

“Splendid,” Dellen said, looking for their carriage. A minute later, it landed with a rush of hissing steam, and they were flying to the Aetheric Cultivator’s airship.

Dellen’s stomach roiled. Since the last time he’d visited the airship, he’d learned that Thaddeus was behind the attacks on the city, and Tristan had abandoned him in the undercity. His eyes widened; if he had jumped between time loops, Tristan would have seen him disappear. Dellen stifled an amused laugh. Tristan had already been terrified of the undercity, and then he’d have seen Dellen touch a column and disappear.

“What’s funny?” Gilgamesh said.

“Just an errant thought.”

“Stay focused. Just because you’re getting better at this, it doesn’t mean you should take it lightly,” Gilgamesh said, referring to Dellen’s imminent Aetherforging.

Soon enough, Dellen had landed and been escorted to a laboratory, where he sat, strapped into a chair, metal contacts at his wrists, throat, and ankles.

A faint trickle of Electrical Aether caressed his skin.

“Is there something the matter with the device?” Dellen asked.

“Sorry, there should be Electrical Aether flowing into you right now,” Tristan said. “Perhaps there’s a loose connection somewhere.” He looked away from Dellen and turned his head in all directions.

“I can feel it,” Dellen said. “It’s just minor.” He considered. “Very minor.”

“Look at the meters.” One of the assistants said. “He’s getting the proper load.”

“That’s not possible,” Tristan muttered.

“Can you turn it up?”

Tristan’s response was sharp. “What?”

“Can you turn it up?” Still bound at the wrists, Dellen pointed with an index finger. “Surely, in that wealth of dials and switches, there is a way to increase the flow.”

“There is.” Tristan hesitated, “But we don’t do that for initial tests.”

Dellen gave that the consideration it was worth. “Show me what you’ve got. Crank one of those dials.”

Tristan gave him a longer look; then he put his hand on the dial. “I’m going to move you up a notch. This will increase the load by ten percent. Are you sure you want to do that?”

Dellen knew he wasn’t going to feel that. “Do it.”

Tristan made a minor adjustment to the dial.

As expected, Dellen felt no increase. “You’re going to need to do more than that. Keep going until I ask you to stop.”

He and Tristan shared another long look. Then Tristan put his hand on the dial and moved it forward with glacial slowness.

Dellen felt the faintest of hums. The sensation of Electrical Aether progressed from very minor to minor. “Keep going; I’m just starting to feel a noteworthy amount.”

Tristan shared a look with the other Aetheric Cultivators in the room. “I’m not sure if we should.” Dellen cut him off. “Turn that dial.”

Tristan turned the dial.

A warmth spread from the cuffs around Dellen’s ankles up his legs, from the cuffs at his wrists up his arms, and from the cuff at his neck up to his eyes and down to his Spark Core. It was a pleasing warmth, the warmth of a warm drink on a cold day. Familiar, comforting.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Increase that dial.”

“We’re at five times normal for a first test,” Tristan said.

“Keep going. This is just a tender caress.”

Tristan turned the dial.

The warmth intensified and lines of power ran through Dellen’s body. He exhaled, it was a sensation of raw enjoyment. “I can feel the Aether now.” He was perhaps understating matters, the Electrical Aether tried to run amok, spasming his muscles, if it spilled free of his control it would burn his bones and sear his organs. He reined it in. It felt practiced. He’d done this before, perhaps more than any other cultivator. His tongue ran across his teeth and he felt energy dancing from tooth to tooth.

“Keep turning that dial,” he said.

The intensity increased.

Electrical Aether spilled from its pathways into his flesh. Bolts of energy danced within his cuffs, thunderstorms between him and the steel. Dellen controlled the flows. Within the cuffs, the field of bolts became single focused beams.

“Turn that dial.”

The Aether thundered within him, energy cascaded through his joints, and exposed flesh shone orange.

“We should stop here,” Tristan said.

“More. Power,” Dellen said, “More. Power.”

“We can’t,” Tristan said.

“I’m forging,” Dellen said. “Give me more! I need more!” He took a breath. “Give me more!” He roared.

The intensity of the flow ramped up, and his skin took on the glow of coals from a fire, brilliance intensifying.

Dellen accepted the Electrical Aether into his body, envisioning a complex flow of power running up, into, and through him. He held an image in his mind of his bones laced through with iron, becoming organic steel, and his flesh, from head to toe, becoming something other, the most primitive stage of steelskin, more organic than not, but woven through with threads of metal.

The cuffs at his wrists, neck, and ankles sublimated.

Gaseous metal surged into his body.

Dellen sighed with pleasure as he welcomed the now-familiar searing pain.

Metal scoured his body, looking for the impurities that it could vanquish and replace. His bones were reinforced, his muscles strengthened and his skin took on a different texture with the faintest metallic sheen.

Tristan cut off the Electrical Aether.

“Thank you,” Dellen said, standing and stretching. “I feel much more myself.” He rolled his shoulders and felt the power he’d missed upon returning to the balcony.

“You made five metal vortexes,” Tristan said, staring at him.

“I suppose I did,” Dellen said, flexing his fingers, enjoying the strength. He felt at the steelskin of his face.

“I’ve never seen someone do that.”

Dellen nodded. “Do you often see individuals taking the step from human to aetherforged in a single day?”

“Never.”

“I’d still appreciate the chance to peruse your library,” Dellen said.

Tristan gave a start. “Yes, of course. I’m sure the librarian would be delighted to help you in any way that he can.”

Dellen snorted softly. None of his memories of Master Corthos supported that particular supposition.

Tristan and Aurelia led Dellen to the library, where he was introduced to Master Corthos.

“Master Corthos.” Aurelia hurried to say. “This is Lord Northcote, Lord Northcote just… passed… an affinity test conducted by Tristan.”

Master Corthos was tall, and narrow, with a face like the blade of a hatchet, and a nose that could cut trails in the air, a pair of intense, emerald eyes locked onto Dellen and Aurelia, like an owl inspecting its future meal. “An affinity test? Corthos peered at Dellen’s face.

“You expect me to believe that he has steelskin from his head to his hands from an affinity test?”

“Yes, sir,” Tristan said.

Corthos’s face twisted in suspicion. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Corthos left in a flurry of robes, “And don’t touch any of my books.” He yelled over his shoulder.

“I suppose we wait,” Dellen said.

“You seem oddly… composed,” Tristan said to him.

Dellen barked out a laugh, “I was hoping to look through your library.” He gestured around them, “And here we are.” He started to walk down the aisles. “Master Corthos said not to touch anything!” Tristan exclaimed.

Dellen put his hands behind his back. “I won’t touch a single piece of paper.” He said before continuing to walk, not really knowing what he was looking for. He felt a bit like he was cheating; as Gilgamesh had pointed out, unlike everyone else, it was possible for him to push his forging to the edge of lethal intensity and then beyond in order to practice achieving the same result. The written word was a pale imitation of the experience of having Electrical Aether surging through the body.

The library door creaked open.

“Where is he?” Dellen’s heart quickened when he recognized Thaddeus’s voice.

Dellen meandered back to the place where Master Corthos had left him. “They didn’t let me touch anything.” He said, inclining his head toward Tristan and Aurelia.

“Hmph,” Corthos muttered.

Thaddeus looked him up and down, peering intently at Dellen’s skin. “Excellent metal density,” he said. “It might be almost as good as my own.” He stepped back so he wasn’t as close to Dellen’s face. “You’re no rank beginner, no matter what you might be trying to convince us of. Why did you come to us today?”

“I wanted to use your library.”

“Let us have an honest conversation,” Thaddeus said. “Somehow, you have already had the benefit of an excellent library, or teaching, of some kind if you were able to achieve this. I looked at the chair you were tested in. You converted all five cuffs to gaseous iron.” He shook his head, “Very impressive. What is your goal?”

What was his goal? Dellen wondered; he wanted to stop the attack, but after that, he needed to help his house and maybe hire passage through the Mercantile Guild. “I want to see the world beyond Copperopolis.” He said.

“How intriguing,” Thaddeus said, “A noble cultivator who wants to see the outside world.” He looked at Dellen again, “And so young, I’ve wanted to leave this city for centuries.”

“Why haven’t you?” Dellen asked.

“Tristan, Aurelia, give us the room, please,” Thaddeus said. He waited for them to leave. “Have you been to visit the Mercantile Guild? Do you know what they charge to leave the city?” Thaddeus shook his head. “I could never be so selfish as to leave my brethren behind.” He looked around, “This ship is my home.”

Dellen nodded, “I have inquired after the guild rates. They are exorbitant. Why can’t another ship follow them through the flows through the dead zone?”

“The flows are not static, they move around the city, changing the safe entrance points, and the safe path through the deadlands is moving. They have a proprietary Aetheric sensor that lets experienced captains follow the paths.”

“Why not just steal a sensor?” Dellen asked.

“I’ve thought of that. I even knew those who had stolen sensors. They are not simple to operate and require Aetheric knowledge beyond what we have to disassemble or reproduce. Everyone who has stolen one of these sensors and tried to escape with it has died. How are you ignorant of this?”

Dellen didn’t rise to the gibe. “I’ve paid scant attention to the guild, my interest in leaving is recent. House Northcote specialises in alloys; I’d like to extend my business interests beyond Copperopolis. I’m finding that puts me in conflict with the guild.”

“I suppose it would, but why are you here? What do you want?”

“I want to be in a better position to negotiate with the guild,” Dellen said.

“Come to see me again in two days.” Thaddeus said, “We may have something to discuss.”